


Four Last Dances

by torestoreamends



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Astoria Fest 2019, Astoria's illness, But not the whole way through (it gets worse towards the end), Dancing, F/M, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Romance, This has some pre-Scorbus thrown in to make things better...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 12:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20407408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torestoreamends/pseuds/torestoreamends
Summary: Three times Astoria dances with her family, and one time they dance without her.





	Four Last Dances

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Astoria Fest 2019. It was beta'd by Abradystrix.

“Astoria. Astoria _Malfoy_.” Daphne dances her way through the crowd and takes hold of Astoria’s hands. “I’m so happy for you! My baby sister, a married woman.” She grabs Astoria round the shoulders and crushes her in an enormous hug.

Astoria laughs in sheer delight and hugs her back. “I know. I _know_. I-I can’t quite believe it.”

Daphne pulls back and shakes her head. “You may not be able to believe it but I can. And you deserve every bit of this happiness.”

Astoria catches hold of her hands again and squeezes them tight. “Daphne. Daffodil. My sister. I’m going to miss you so much.”

Daphne tuts and swats at her. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. Just because you’re moving into a big fancy house with your gorgeous new husband doesn’t mean I can’t come and visit. In fact, he already said I can come and stay. So. No escape from me yet.”

“I know,” Astoria says. “I know that. But it’ll be different. New family, new home, new life...”

Daphne reaches out and touches her cheek. “But still the glorious Astoria. And still the same little old me.”

“You’re not little or old,” Astoria scoffs.

“Maybe not old, but these are some serious heels, and I’m still not nearly one of the tallest people here.”

Astoria laughs and tugs on her hands. “You’re ridiculous. Can you dance in those heels?”

“Would a Greengrass wear heels she can’t dance in?” Daphne asks.

Astoria shakes her head. “She absolutely would not. And neither would a Malfoy.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“So.” Astoria pulls her sister in close and puts a hand on her shoulder. “One last dance? For old time’s sake, before we grow up?”

“How dare you insinuate that we’re going to grow up,” Daphne chides. “I for one do not intend to ever become a fully functioning adult.”

Astoria snorts and bats her shoulder. “You know what I mean. And... I’m actually quite glad to be growing up. I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance.”

Daphne’s smile fades just a little and she puts her hand on Astoria’s waist. “I know. I really am happy for you. And proud. And...” She shakes her head and draws in a big sniff of a breath. Astoria can tell she’s trying to hide the tears that are collecting in her eyes, but she’s not doing a very good job.

“If anyone deserves this happiness,” Daphne says in a shaky voice, “then it’s you. And I hope you get lots and _lots_ of time to enjoy it.”

Astoria smiles and nods. “Me too...” She glances in the direction of Draco, who’s on the other side of the room talking to a couple of people from the Ministry. “I want it to last forever.”

“Maybe it will,” Daphne murmurs. “Just because your happily ever after will be a little shorter than most, doesn’t make it any less significant.”

“Anyway,” Astoria says, inhaling and looking away from her new husband, back to her sister. “The point is that I want to dance with you. So stop making me cry and move those feet.”

Daphne laughs. “Yes, sir.”

She twirls Astoria round in a rustle of white silk, and the two of them waltz their way across the dance floor, cutting their way through the crowd. Their hands are clasped tight together, bodies pressed close, and they laugh as they dance, bright and joyful and free. Just like the promise of the future, which is in reach on the other side of the horizon. As soon as the sun rises, a new day begins, full of hope. And the two of them know better than anyone that every dawn is a gift.

“Are you tired?” Draco asks.

Astoria, who had been smiling and humming along to the music as she watched the crowd on the dance floor, glances at him. “Not particularly. Are you?”

Draco shakes his head. “Not at all. I just thought I’d check that you weren’t.”

Astoria eyes him. “You wanted me to say yes, didn’t you?”

“No, of course not!” Draco gives her what she immediately recognises as his most innocent expression, and she pounces.

“You did! Draco Malfoy, is my company really so dull?” She darts a hand out, feinting above his champagne glass, then quickly switching below when he blocks her. She only manages to tickle him for a few seconds before he catches her wrist and holds her. Even though he’s not holding her tight, she’s giggling too much to break free, and when she tries the ensuing struggle means they both slop their drinks onto the carpet.

“Now look what you’ve done,” she chides Draco, now laughing even more. “You’ve gone and spilled champagne all down yourself. That’s a waste of the Ministry’s finest hospitality.”

“Cat’s piss,” Draco says, putting his glass down and trying to brush the liquid off his robes. “I’m not going to cry about it. And anyway, it’s all your fault.” He takes Astoria’s glass off her and holds both her hands. “You’re being very troublesome tonight, Mrs Malfoy.”

“I blame the husband,” Astoria grins.

“I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Hey!” She pokes him in the side. “I invited you, remember? And you can’t be bored. This is fun.” She gestures to the ballroom full of miserable-looking people that neither of them particularly want to talk to.

Draco snorts. “Can’t we use the excuse that we have to get home to our child?”

Astoria shakes her head. “I don’t think we can. He’ll be disappointed if we come home early. I’m sure he’s having a much better time with Daphne than he would be if we were there.” She looks very seriously at Draco. “We’re very dreary parents. We’re no fun.”

“So that’s why your company is so boring these days,” Draco sighs in understanding. “Parenthood.”

Astoria cuffs him on the arm. “You’re terrible. Come and dance with me. Then you won’t be bored anymore.”

Draco peers down at the dance floor. “The music is awful. I think they’re doing dad dancing down there. I can’t do that sort of dancing.”

Astoria shrugs. “And? We’ll do our sort of dancing. Cause a stir.”

“I’m not sure what sort of dancing you’re thinking of,” Draco says giving her a look, “but I’m not sure it’s allowed here.”

Astoria smirks at him. “Maybe you should come and find out what sort of dancing I’m thinking of.” She presents her hand to him. “Don’t be scared, Mr Malfoy. I’ll take good care of you.”

Draco rolls his eyes and takes her hand. “Fine. You win. Let’s dance.”

She tows him downstairs and across to the dance floor. As she twirls to face him, he gives her a formal bow and she grins and bobs a curtsy in return before taking his hands and starting to dance.

They get a lot of odd looks, dancing across the floor like they’re at some formal gathering for high society Purebloods, but Astoria doesn’t care. It’s not like they weren’t getting odd looks before they started dancing. And it’s easier, with Draco, to not much care what the rest of the world thinks of her. Life is too short to worry about being judged, and if they want to judge her for something that she’s enjoying, then they can judge away.

She smiles up at Draco, who looks back at her, not with a smile but with sharp intensity. Earlier in their relationship she used to be afraid of that expression, and convinced that it meant he was unhappy. Now she knows it just means he’s concentrating. He’s focusing on her, on leading her safely in this dance, and on committing every single second to memory.

That focus is one of the things she’s grown to love most about him. It shows he understands that time is limited, and that he’s appreciating what little of it they have together. It makes her feel more permanent, like she has a tangible place in the world, because when she dies he at least won’t forget her.

“If you do get tired at any point,” Draco murmurs a few dances in, “let me know, and we can go home.”

“You _still_ want to leave?” Astoria asks, squeezing his hand.

“I very much do not, but... the best things never last.”

Astoria pauses in the dance and takes hold of his hand with both of hers. “Tonight won’t go on forever, but I do intend to stay until the final dance. Will you share it with me?”

Draco finally smiles and bows his head. He lifts her hands to his lips and kisses the back of both of them. “Of course. The last dance — every dance — belongs to you.”

They dance until their feet ache, long after Astoria has kicked off her heels and started to dance barefoot instead. They dance as if they’re the last two people left alive and the music is for them alone. They dance until the final strummed guitar chord dies in the air and the few people remaining at the party applaud the band before finishing their drinks and conversations. And when the dancing is over they head home to their son, hand in hand, Astoria’s shoes held lightly between her fingers.

Neither of them are aware that it’s the last time they’ll make it to the end of a party — their final last dance. All they know is that they feel light and happy and brim full with love. Let the future be the future, this sparkling evening is their present, and they would go on dancing all night if they could.

At first Scorpius doesn’t know what’s woken him up. He rubs his eyes and blinks blearily around the room. It’s dark, but the chinks of amber light escaping round the edges of his curtains suggest it’s snowing outside. Maybe that’s why he’s awake. Snow. But when he sits and tries to listen to the soft blanket of silence that goes hand in hand with snow, he hears the music.

That was it. The music. It floated into his dreams and pulled him back to the waking world.

He slides out from under his blankets and pulls his dressing gown on. The bare floorboards are cold underfoot, but he can’t find his slippers, so he tiptoes quickly across the room and along the landing, following the sound of the music.

It doesn’t take long to find. From the top of the grand staircase he can see light spilling from the ballroom and across the flagstoned floor. That’s where the music is coming from too, gentle, lyrical dance music, with the slight crackle of age to the sound.

Scorpius inches his way downstairs, trying to avoid any creaks from the staircase as he descends. Once he’s safely down he pads across to the ballroom door and peeks inside.

His mum is in there alone. She’s standing in the very centre of the room, turning on the spot, arms wrapped round herself, rocking in time to the music, which is playing from an old gramophone set on the floor in one corner. She seems oblivious to the world, head thrown back, lost in the music and the slow shuffle of her feet.

For a moment Scorpius stands in the doorway and watches her, one hand resting on the doorframe like an anchor to the outside world. He wants to go closer, to sit and watch or maybe even join in like he used to when he was young and would wake up to find his parents dancing together in here. But he doesn’t want to disturb her. Not when she looks so peaceful.

In the end he doesn’t have to worry. As she turns towards him she opens one eye and smiles at him.

“Hello. I thought you were asleep.”

Scorpius shakes his head and steps across the threshold. “No. I mean, I was. I heard the music.”

“I woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “Are you alright? Why are you dancing?”

Astoria gestures up at the glass dome of the ceiling overhead. “I was watching the snow, and then I realised I miss dancing. It’s been... it’s been a while since I was well enough to do it, and I might not...” She trails off, but Scorpius knows what she was going to say.

“You might not get another chance,” he whispers, looking down at his hands. He hates talking about this, about the fact that one day soon she’s simply not going to be here anymore, but he knows he’s supposed to talk about it. It’s supposed to help him come to terms with the inevitable, but he doesn’t particularly want to come to terms with it. He wants his mum here forever.

“Scorpius,” she murmurs.

She leaves her spot in the middle of the floor and comes over to take his hands in both of hers. She’s shaking ever so slightly, a tiny tremor in what used to be the steadiest and most reassuring of grips. Scorpius squeezes her fingers to keep them still.

“Come and dance with me,” she says, giving his hands a gentle tug. “It’s much more fun with two.”

“I don’t know if I can remember the steps,” he says. “And you should save your strength.“

She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. “You sound just like your father sometimes. I promise I’ve got all the strength I need for tonight.”

“And tomorrow?” Scorpius asks. “It’s Christmas tomorrow. We need you awake for that, or Dad will end up burning the dinner.”

“Tomorrow is another day. I’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes. But don’t worry, I want to be there for Christmas too. I _will_ be there. I don’t want to let you down.”

“You wouldn’t let me down,” Scorpius says quickly. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that Christmas is important, and... you love Christmas.”

Astoria slides one of her hands from his grip and ruffles her fingers through his hair. “Scorpius. Can we make a deal? Just for tonight?”

Scorpius frowns at her. “Does it involve sweets?” All his mum’s best deals involve sweets.

She laughs and draws him into a brief hug. “Yes, it can involve sweets.”

“I’m listening.” Scorpius folds his arms and looks at her.

“I will give you a... a box of Jelly Slugs-“

“A _box_?” Scorpius asks in amazement.

Astoria nods. “A whole box. If, just for tonight, the two of us can pretend that we’re any other mother and son. I worry about you more than you worry about me, we get to dance until midnight because it’s Christmas tomorrow and we’re looking forward to our favourite day of the year, and we’re both healthy and happy and- and free.”

“But-“ Scorpius swallows and looks at his mum. He’s never seen this expression on her face before: one not of determination but desperation. Right now he has the power to make that go away. He can make her happy. But what if tomorrow is all the worse because of this one stupid dance?

She gives him a couple of seconds of indecision before her shoulders slump and she shakes her head. “It’s okay. You can say no. It’s probably the right thing to do. And anyway, you should go back to bed. I’m sorry the music woke you.” She crosses the room to the gramophone, steps small and defeated, and just as she reaches to turn it off, Scorpius summons up his defiant courage. Maybe Draco will kill them in the morning, maybe the dinner will get burned, maybe they’ll spend another quiet and boring day with Astoria not well enough to get out of bed. But that might happen anyway, even if they don’t dance. For the happiness of tonight, this will be worth it.

“No.” Scorpius rushes across to stop her turning off the music. “No. I-I’ll do it.” He draws himself up straight, pushes a bright smile onto his face, and holds a hand out to her. “I expect the box of Jelly Slugs to be delivered forthwith to my room.”

She gives a small smile in response. “Scorpius, you don’t have to-“

He takes hold of one of her hands and tries to spin her round. It doesn’t go very well; he’s small enough that she has to duck under his arm, but she doesn’t seem to mind. It just makes her smile.

“It’s okay,” He says. “I need to stock up on sweets before I go back to school. This is the perfect way to do it.”

She laughs and plants a kiss on his forehead. “I suppose it’s a deal then.”

“It is a deal.”

He squeezes her hands and leads her into the middle of the ballroom. Normally he dances with energy and exuberance, but tonight, even though he made a promise just to be normal, he’s more careful. He leads the dance and makes sure all the steps are in the right places and most of all he watches to see whether she’s getting tired.

They only get a couple of songs in before her stride shortens and her grip becomes more shaky, and after one last dance he lets go of her hands and they both collapse onto the floor to catch their breath. As the music keeps crackling away from the gramophone behind them, they sit side by side on the ballroom floor and watch the snow tumble down to blanket the glass dome. Scorpius considers telling her some of the dozens of facts he knows about snow, but it seems wrong to interrupt the music, so he just leans against her side and pays silent attention as her breathing steadies itself and her heart beats out its constant rhythm.

Finally, after about ten minutes of stillness and silence, Astoria sits up and wraps an arm round Scorpius. She draws him into a tight hug, and he hugs her back, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and he squeezes her tighter.

“I love you, Mum,” he mumbles as a muffled reply.

They sit and hug for a while, until the gramophone crackles into silence and the last chimes of midnight from the clock in the hall echo away to nothing, leaving just the soft, feathery silence of snowfall behind.

It’s Christmas Day, halfway through Scorpius’s second year of Hogwarts. That Christmas Eve is the last time Astoria dances, and that Christmas is the last they spend together as a family.

Scorpius rarely wears black. He always says it’s too formal and makes him feel like his dad. But he’s wearing it today, all black with just a splash of pink from the rose pinned to his lapel. Against his dark suit, his skin is an even starker white than usual. Despite how awful he looks, his head is held high as he crosses the room to where Albus is sitting in a corner with his mum.

“Hi,” Scorpius says softly when he reaches them.

Albus gives him a little wave. “How are you doing?”

Scorpius shrugs. “You know. I-I actually have to do something now. Will you come and help?”

Albus doesn’t hesitate to get to his feet. “What do you need?”

“How well can you dance?”

Albus stops dead. “I... can’t? Scorpius! What are we doing?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Scorpius takes hold of his wrist. “Come with me. Please.”

“Of course, but- I really cannot dance.”

“Don’t worry. You can follow me.”

Albus makes a panicked noise, but Scorpius doesn’t seem to hear. They’ve arrived at a set of steps that lead onto a stage at one end of the hall they’re in, and Scorpius is now eyeing them up.

“Are we dancing on the stage?” Albus asks. He knows Scorpius has had a lot on, but he can’t help but feel that some warning about this would have been appreciated.

Scorpius shakes his head and looks at him. “I need you to wait here. I, um. I-I have to go and talk to everyone.”

Albus blinks at him in surprise. Scorpius has never been one for public speaking. Even now he looks faintly sick. But if he’s doing it then it must be important.

“Okay,” Albus says. “O-okay. I’ll wait. You... you’ll be brilliant.” He pats Scorpius on the arm. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Scorpius mutters.

As he ascends the steps to the stage, Draco materialises, accompanied by the woman who Albus has been introduced to as Astoria’s sister, Daphne. She leans against the wall, arms wrapped round herself, and Draco steps up beside her and rubs her shoulder. Albus keeps a careful distance, not wanting to intrude on a grief he can barely comprehend.

Up on the stage, Scorpius clears his throat, and that’s all it takes for the room to fall silent.

“I-I...” He draws in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Hi. I’m Scorpius. Astoria’s son. Y-you probably already know that, but...” He glances past Albus, towards his dad, then his gaze lands on Albus and he steadies himself. “My mum... loved to dance. It was one of her favourite things in the world. She... she always said it made her feel free.” He twists his fingers together and stares down at his hands, his voice faltering.

“When she was well, she was always the last person left on the dance floor. A-and I remember when I was younger, sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and come downstairs to find my parents dancing. We would all dance together. She taught me all the steps. I don’t know how, because even just walking I manage to fall over my own feet, so I don’t understand how it’s even possible to dance, but I can because of her... On Christmas Eve last year I danced with her for the last time while it snowed outside and I-” He inhales, a sharp, open mouthed intake of breath, then he licks his lips and swallows, pushing on.

“I can’t think of a better way of saying good- goodbye and thank you than... to dance. If there was one thing my mum believed it was that the world is full of hope, even when things feel impossible. And since now feels more impossible than ever, I think this is a good time to dance and to hope because... Because now she’s at peace I want us all to be happy too.”

He trails off, once again looking in the direction of his dad, then he nods and gives a tiny shrug. “Please dance with us. That’s all. Thank you.”

When he leaves the stage, he’s intercepted at the bottom of the stairs by Daphne, who sweeps him into a tight hug and kisses the top of his head. He makes the briefest of eye contact with his dad, who just nods at him, before he turns to Albus.

Albus doesn’t know what to do. He wants to hug Scorpius, but he doesn’t know if it would be welcome, so instead he holds his hands out.

“I want to do this but I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

Scorpius sniffs and shakes his head. “Mum wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but...” It seems stupid to say ‘I wish I’d met her and I wish she could have taught me’, so Albus doesn’t. “You’ve had a rubbish enough day without me trampling on your toes.”

Scorpius gives a rather squelchy little laugh and takes Albus’s hands. “If I can do it with two left feet then you can definitely have a go. You’re a Potter. You can do everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“True enough. Come on.”

Albus lets himself be led into the clear space between the tables, and as the music swells from somewhere, maybe from thin air itself, he finds that he and Scorpius aren’t alone. There’s no one in the room left sitting. Albus spots his mum partnering up with a little old lady at the back of the room. Daphne is crying silently as she dances with Draco, who’s staring numbly into thin air. There must be a hundred other people in here too, from all of the many corners of Astoria’s life, and they’re each finding a partner and starting to dance.

It’s easy, surrounded by the crowd, for Albus to forget that he has no idea what he’s doing. No one is judging him here. No one is paying him even the slightest bit of attention, because there’s something more important going on.

This is all for Astoria, to honour her and what she meant to these people. If there’s one thing Albus has learned today it’s that Scorpius’s mum touched so many lives. She was good and kind and loving. She cared about people and about making the world better for them. She loved to garden and dance. She was far more than just the illness that took her too soon. She lived for every single day, and even now she’s gone, the people in this room, her family most of all, still carry her memory and her light.

And maybe Astoria was right. Maybe dancing really does make people free. Because despite how bleak everything is, as the music enfolds them in a wash of golden harmony, Scorpius is smiling. There are tears shining in his eyes and dribbling down his cheeks, but he’s smiling. It’s the first proper smile Albus has seen from him in weeks, and if that’s not hope then Albus doesn’t know what is.


End file.
